Criminal Matchmaking
by Olfactory-Ventriloquism
Summary: The Doctor and Rose have a "real vacation"...on Elba. But this place seems to be wreaking havoc on Rose's emotional control. 10/Rose
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: If I owned Doctor Who I wouldn't be worrying about the price of my college.

AN: This is my response to Jessa L'Rynn's challenge in which I have to use at least one of three lines. I chose the following two:

**Line 1:** She smiled dreamily. "I wonder what sex is like in zero gravity?" she said. The Doctor spat his drink all over his clothes, the table, and his lap. She looked up at him, shocked, the expression on her face saying, quite clearly, "Oh God, did I just say that aloud?"

**Line 3:** "If I had a Time Lord for every time you made that outrageous claim..." paragraph "You'd have a whole pantheon of boring?" Paragraph "What's a Time Lord?"

* * *

This started out as a one-shot and grew. They tend to do that to me. 

"You've brought me to a penal colony." Rose stated flatly, arms crossed in distinct displeasure.

"No!" the Doctor protested. "Well, yes. Well, most of the time. For one decade out of every 200 years, it's a vacation resort."

"It's a prison."

"Not right now! It's halfway between the two stars in orbits. Trapped in this binary star system, this hunk of ice transforms into a work of art. The stars orbit each other and this comet orbits both of them. At this point in its cycle, it's really quite beautiful." The Doctor seized both of Rose's hands and led her from the console to the TARDIS doors. Keeping one of her hands firmly grasped in his, he opened the door to reveal a gorgeous lake shining gold in the setting sun. Rose opened her mouth to ask where the second sun was, but remembered that she was mad at him for not telling her the truth about their "vacation." The air was lightly perfumed and warm, but a breeze blowing off the lake rose goosepimples on her arms. The Doctor stood behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders and rubbed slowly up and down her arms, the slight friction causing soothing warmth despite his lower body temperature. Rose could feel her resolve draining, so she voiced one last complaint.

"It's named after the island that Napoleon was exiled to," she reminded him, petulantly.

"What's wrong with that? Elba's a pretty name." The Doctor blinked as a thought came to him. "Besides, how do you know it's not named after the type of toast?"

Rose groaned and rolled her eyes.

"That's _Melba _toast." She grabbed his hand in hers and began to head towards the building on the lake shore. "C'mon, then. If this is a vacation, we're getting a real hotel room," she informed him semi-sternly. The Doctor grinned and happily allowed himself to be led.

* * *

They didn't get a hotel room. Rose had perched herself on a Roman-styled couch allowing the Doctor to procure the living arrangements on his own. While she read the latest gossip in the Andaruvian magazine she had selected at random from the table before her, he chatted amiably with the purple and orange young…being behind the counter. He returned with a key and a smug expression. 

As a penal colony, the Doctor explained as they strolled towards their cabin on the other side of the lake, Elba took solitary confinement quite seriously. Each prisoner sentenced to it was locked in his own, small building where everything was provided for by machines. They are then left to their own devices. During the vacation period, these amenities were converted into cabins for the guests. The Doctor proceeded to explain how the flora of this comet had evolved to act as if 200 years were just one long year, and the single decade of warmth was merely a short summer. The trunks of the trees could photosynthesize when the comet was too far from either sun to be warm enough for leaves. Rose cut him off before he could go any further with a squeeze of his arm and a squeal of excitement. Between the photosynthesizing trunks of the fascinating trees, their lodgings had begun to peek. It was charming. A flowering vine obscured about a quarter of its front, but it had quite obviously been designed to resemble a thatched cottage. The romanticism of the scene imprinted itself on Rose who quickly shoved that thought under a mental pile of laundry and ignored it.

The first thing that might tip off a casual viewer that the cottage was not, in fact, from the eighteenth century was the control panel on the door. Rose watched as the Doctor programmed the atmospheric conditions best suited for Rose and himself.

Stars were just appearing as they entered the cabin.

* * *

One bed. Of course there was only one bed. Rose wanted to kick herself for insisting that a proper vacation meant a hotel. She mentally cursed a blush that leapt unbidden to her cheeks. 

They had been in similar situations before. Often times, the jail cell they were cast into had only one bed. In such cases, the Doctor would insist that Rose rest while he worked on a way out. On occasion, though, just to spice things up, the Doctor would be too injured or sick, so Rose would put him to bed and tend to him as best she could while finding a way to disable the guards. When in jail, the absence of a second bed never had caused a problem.

_It will in this jail,_ Rose thought with a tint of hysteria as she tried to force certain indelicate images from her head. The fact that the Doctor's smile upon being informed of their predicament was both satisfied and longing was completely lost on Rose, who was trying desperately to compose her thoughts.

"Well," the Doctor announced suddenly, startling Rose's eyes open. "It's a big bed. Plenty of room for two." This casual proclamation put an instant end to all of Rose's torturous imaginings. _The Doctor didn't see anything wrong because he would never even consider_…Rose clamped down on the self pity with a merciless shake of her head. She knew the Doctor didn't think of her like that, and if she didn't stop these baseless fantasies she would only end up with her heart in pieces when she did something stupid and he rightly chucked her out on her ear.

The Doctor perched himself on the edge of the bed and watched the expressions flit across her face. His floor show was ended abruptly, however, when they heard the door to their cabin emit a loud click. The surprise caused them each to instinctively catch the other's gaze before turning towards the front room and advancing slowly, hands clasped tightly.

A red light now blinked menacingly on the front door. The Doctor went forward to examine it.

"We're locked in," he told her. Rose's eyebrows shot towards her hairline in alarm. "Oh, nothing to be concerned about," the Doctor unconvincingly reassured her. "I'm sure it's just that since it's so dark here, what with there being no moon and all, they're afraid people will go outside and hurt themselves." Rose decided to pretend to believe him. She knew he would admit to his misgivings soon enough. Therefore, she changed the subject.

"I've been meaning to ask you about that. Shouldn't there be two suns and almost no night?" Rose delivered the question with such ease that the Doctor relaxed, hopeful that she had believed him. For once, he wanted them to have a nice break; he didn't want this vacation ruined by some government plot like all the others were.

"There_are_ two suns," the Doctor informed her. "They just don't rise and set on the same axis. One rises in the East and sets in the West like you're used to. Also, it's up for about the same amount of time that the sun is up in August in…say…Texas. The other sun is only up for about six hours, and it rises in the South and sets in the North. It's very bright from about ten in the morning to about two in the afternoon. At least for now. It'll change as the comet moves."

Rose nodded. She knew that normally she would find this remarkable, and some distant part of her brain was filing it away greedily. But mostly she felt as if she were in a haze. She was flushed, and nervous, and extremely turned on just by his proximity. With any luck, a cup of tea would help. Unfortunately, even the familiar act of making tea brought distinctly impious thoughts to the forefront of her mind. _What would he taste like after a sip of tea? _Rose found herself wondering before very firmly redirecting her mind to the here and now.

They returned to the bedroom where Rose began to unpack the small bag she had thought to bring with her. She often wondered if perhaps the Doctor had tweaked it, because she was always able to get into it what she needed but very little that was frivolous. The Doctor sat and watched her wander around the room. A companionable silence reigned broken only by occasional questions that sprung to Rose's mind, prompted by their current surroundings. Rose paused in her labor and sipped her tea as she leaned against a wardrobe. She spied another control panel, this one stationed on the inside of the footboard. She placed her mug down and plopped down on the bed lying on her stomach to better examine the various settings. Her perusal quickly revealed a zero-gravity setting, which claimed to be good for the back. Rose could feel the Doctor's gaze, which had never left her, continue to burn into her. She glanced up and caught his gaze. Her breath caught. His eyes were dark and smoldering. In her current mode of thought, she couldn't help but believe she saw desire there. Her imagination ran unfettered under his stare. That look followed her into her fantasies. Bedroom eyes that drank in the sight of her bare skin. Rose's fingers traveled lazily over the footboard. She smiled dreamily.

"I wonder what sex is like in zero-gravity?" she said. The Doctor spat his drink all over his clothes, the table, and his lap. She looked up at him, shocked, the expression on her face saying, quite clearly, "Oh God, did I say that aloud?" Her eyes briefly met his, but his gaze skittered away like a startled squirrel. Gone were the hooded eyes of only moments before. "Just…uh, just idle curiosity," she stammered. "Think I'm gonna get a shower before I hit the hay." Rose grabbed her pajamas and almost ran to the bathroom, only daring to breathe again after barricading herself in the shower. She then proceeded to bang her head repeatedly against the wall. _What has gotten into me today?_

The Doctor sat motionless, staring at the wrinkles where Rose had lain on the bed. He was completely oblivious to the hot liquid that had soaked through his clothes. A stunned and smug grin soon grew on his face.

* * *

Rose emerged from the shower in a cream tank top and maroon pajama pants. Despite the fact that she knew the Doctor had seen her wear considerably less due to the customs of some of the places they'd visited, she felt completely exposed. The Doctor seemed to have forgotten her comment from earlier as he gave her an appreciative smile when she appeared in the doorway. Rose felt herself become even more flustered than usual. The Doctor sat in bed in his jim-jams which had a remarkable resemblance to Howard's. His knees were tucked up to support a large, leather-bound tome that he had selected from a bookshelf in the front hall. His glasses perched delicately on his nose, but he took them off to run his gaze along her frame. 

Self-consciously, Rose climbed into the empty side of the bed, very careful not to touch the Doctor as she settled herself as far as possible from him. The Doctor gave her a kind smile which she returned nervously before he reached over to put up his book and flip off the light.

Minutes passed in which Rose was conscious of every second, agonizing over the slowness of the passing time. She lay stiffly, convinced that she would be completely unable to sleep. After an unspecifiable period of time, Rose felt the Doctor's fingers slide along her spine. His touch was too light to be a massage, but even the lightest touch can do wonders to muscles tensed past the point of pain. She stiffened at first, but the gentleness and safe repetitiveness of the motion soothed her slowly into relaxation and sleep.

When he was certain that Rose was asleep, the Doctor hooked an arm about her waist and drew her closer to him, fitting their bodies together before following Rose to the sweet beckonings of the subconscious.

* * *

Sunlight filtered in through the small, eastern-facing window and lovingly caressed the pair snuggled together on the bed. Rose scrunched up her face in an attempt to keep the light out and return to sleep. She was warm and comfortable and, for some reason, felt protected, even cherished. The Doctor's thumb twitched against her stomach. 

Rose's eyes shot open. She held herself perfectly still, scarcely breathing, until she was sure that the Doctor was still asleep. Her face was burning. She'd known there being only one bed was going to cause problems. When the Doctor showed no signs of being awake, Rose tentatively removed his had from where it had curled around her waist. She carefully turned over to examine his sleeping form. At first, he seemed to be at peace, a rare expression to be seen on his face. Over the next few moments, the tranquility evaporated. Worry creased his brow, and slight whimpers began to sound in time to his facial twitches. Rose reached up and gently laid her hand on his cheek. The Doctor instantly stilled. His hand snaked out to wrap around her waist and pulled her flush against him. He nuzzled her hand that still rested on his cheek and smiled slightly, calm once more.

Heart pounding, Rose tried to assess her situation. Nope, no good. Thinking about it made in even more real, and, if the heat suffusing her body was anything to go by, it was real enough already. Slowly, so as not to wake him, Rose pulled her hand down from his cheek, drawing her fingers along his jaw in the process. The slight rasp along the pads of her fingers from his stubble was erotic and stimulated her to unthinkingly prolong the contact following his jaw to the underside of his chin and down his neck. Rose shivered as she imagined what that scraping would feel like between her legs. For that matter, what would his lips feel like down there? Or against her own lips?

Only inches separated her from that knowledge, and she almost gave in. She did lean closer to him so that their breath mingled and she could feel the warmth of his lips radiating towards hers.

Rose jumped as a loud click came from their front door. The surge of adrenalin gave her an instant of clear thinking and she pulled back a bit from the temptation. She was profoundly grateful that she had when she glanced up and noticed him staring intently at her. How long had he been awake? Had he known what she had meant to do? His gaze was locked on her lips, and disappointment was evident on his face. He raised his eyes, and Rose was stunned by their depth, darkened by arousal. He released his hold on Rose's waist and grinned manicly to disguise what Rose was nearly certain she had glimpsed.

"Door's unlocked. C'mon, let's go see why we were locked in in the first place!" He bounded from the bed in excitement.

"Thought you said it was to keep people from hurting themselves in the dark," Rose teased him.

"Well, it's possible. It would be nice to be sure, though, wouldn't it?" His enthusiasm was, as always, contagious, and she grinned back. The Doctor bounded to the front door and wrenched it open, grinning in the sunlight that dappled his face. Knowing Rose would take some time to properly wake up, the Doctor jumped into the shower.

When Rose heard the water start, she breathed in to sigh in relief. The air was so saturated by his scent, though, that it became a sigh of longing. She threw the covers back, greedily breathing his musk that this action stirred up. Only after firmly locking the door, did Rose dare to strip off her pajamas in order to get ready for the day.

She was drinking tea and nibbling on an apple when the bathroom door opened and the Doctor emerged. In a towel. Rose was very grateful that she had set down her mug in order to pick a good apple from the fruit bowl, because she was sure that she would have broken it. As it was, she gripped the apple so tightly that her nails punctured the skin, and juice dripped down her fingers and pooled in her palms. The Doctor, after staring hungrily at her sticky hands, had the grace to look sheepish.

"I forgot my suit." He informed her. Rose managed to nod as he walked to the bedroom, even as her eyes jealously followed a drop of water down his back.

* * *

Rose broke through the mental haze almost as soon as they left the cabin. She was still dead attracted to him, but she felt her thoughts come flooding back. Her skin still tingled where his hand gripped hers, but it no longer threatened to overcome her better judgment. With this renewed clarity, Rose realized that she had begun to allow her desires to run away with her almost the moment she had entered the cottage. Suddenly, Rose had a few questions of her own to ask the operators of this establishment. 


	2. Chapter 2

"What do you mean, 'you lost one

"What do you mean, 'you lost one?' They were in solitary confinement!" Rose knew getting upset would do no good, but when the former occupant of the charming jail-cell-turned- romantic-getaway is on the loose, it just makes you feel better to yell a bit. The Warden-turned-concierge floundered for the correct thing to say before sagging visibly.

"Sorry," he settled for lamely. Much to his surprise, Rose seemed to have written him out of the room and had rounded angrily on the Doctor.

"You knew." Fire flashed behind her eyes to undermine her now calm voice. "What did he do-start a genocide? That the real reason we're here, isn't it?!"

"No! I didn't know," the Doctor was cut off in his attempt to defend himself by Rose's derisive laughter. "If I had a Time Lord for every time you made that outrageous claim…"

"You'd have a whole pantheon of boring?"

"What's a Time Lord?"

Both Rose and the Doctor turned to the warden/concierge. Simultaneously, they decided to change the subject.

"What was he in for, anyway?" the Doctor asked.

"Um…" the warden regretted calling attention to himself. He hazarded a glance at the file on his desk. "Matchmaking." Rose looked incredulous.

"Matchmaking?" She pressed the matter, desperate to know the reason behind her recent lack of control. "Alright, it's annoying when someone butts into your business, but hardly a jail-able offence."

"It is the way he did it," the warden assured her. "See, the Komenians are a race that has, for generations, spurned emotion." The Doctor rolled his eyes in sympathy. "This particular prisoner, Tankus, developed a chemical that, when introduced to a Komenian, would, ultimately, kill them unless they were to give into their emotions. Unfortunately, Tankus underestimated the levels of their control. Instead of liberating a species, he killed dozens before being caught."

"You mean…it was like…shag or die?" Rose asked. Everything had clicked in her head. "Wait…what was he doing in his cell? All alone for so long, how did he pass the time?"

"I believe, from the chemical supplies he requested, he was looking to perfect the solution. It would hardly matter if he did, though, he was never to be released, so could never use it."

"But he's escaped. And people will live in his cell for the next ten years. There's no telling what he could have done to it!"

"Our systems won't allow a Komenian to enter that building. And, despite the textbooks he's been given access to, it's impossible that he would have sufficient information to begin to work on another species. After all, neither of you have had any effects from staying there, have you?"

"Nope," the Doctor popped the 'p' quite innocently and turned to study Rose, who had turned a rather alarming shade of scarlet.

"'Course not." She said, and quickly searched for a means to divert attention from herself. "But now he's loose. There's no telling what he could do."

"Good point." The Doctor took control of the conversation, and Rose was glad for the shift of attention from her. "Are there any Komenians currently checked in?" The warden checked his computer.

"It's not uncommon for them to come and study our native flora," he explained while typing on something that resembled a keyboard, but, instead of letters or numbers on the keys, they were each distinguished by a color. "Yes. Two checked in last night."

"Where is their room?" the Doctor demanded, but the warden was already on his feet and sprinting towards the door.

* * *

When the three of them skidded to a stop in front of another secluded cabin, the Doctor raised his hand, wielding the sonic screwdriver. Rose reached out to stop him and motioned for silence. From inside the cabin came the unmistakable sounds of passion.

"I fixed it!" A blue and teal, newt-like creature came out from behind some bushes. "They can be free!" He turned to the warden. "I just had to test it. I knew that it wouldn't kill them this time." He held out the appendages that he wasn't using to walk on for the cuffs that the warden was holding. "I know I'm not done yet. I must get back to my work. There are so many others that deny themselves the most important connection a sentient being can experience. You can take me back now. I must still pay for my previous failures." Though Tankus seemed to be speaking to the warden, his eyes flickered between Rose and the Doctor with an unreadable expression on his face. Finally, he smiled. "Cherish it." He told them as he was led off. Rose and the Doctor watched the two leave, mute in amazement as to how little their assistance was required.

"Did he just turn himself in?" Rose asked, incredulously.

"Yup," the Doctor's 'p' was barely pronounced.

"Can he do that?"

"Apparently."

The warden and Tankus disappeared into the main building of the jail. The Doctor took his eyes of the doors and focused on Rose. When Rose noticed his scrutiny, she colored.

"How many makes it worth it, do you think?" she queried softly.

"Sorry?"

"He did that to help the Komenians. For a whole species. But…if he saw two people, just random people on the street, that were nuts for each other, d'you think he'd try again? Just for them?" her voice was hushed, intimate, and she didn't break eye contact. Had Tankus prepared similar chemicals for other, less inhibited species for those who were too blind to see what was right before them?

"If they were _both_ in love with the other, I don't think he'd hesitate." The Doctor searched Rose's eyes for some hidden answer to a mystery Rose didn't even know she was hiding, but Rose had blinked and shut herself off from his gaze.

"Right. Both of them," she repeated, sounding slightly dejected.

* * *

They spent the remainder of the day exploring the lake front. Rose was enchanted when the found a chain of caves that had formed and continued to form due to the freezing and melting of the lake. Lush moss lined the floor and walk for the first twenty feet or so and the water dripping into an underground pool echoed into a haunting melody. The Doctor spread his coat on the moss in the same way he'd done on New Earth, and they sat. Rose leaned into his one armed embrace and smiled wistfully as the second sun set.

As the lilac of twilight dwindled towards black, a thought struck Rose.

"Doctor? How dark, exactly, does it get at night?"

"Oh, almost completely black. Practically no light at all, he said, cheerfully.

"Oh," Rose paused. "Doctor? How are we supposed to get back?"

"Ah."

The Doctor led her very carefully over the rocky landscape. His left hand rested on the small of her back, and his right hand crossed his body to hold hers. Rose was conscious of the way their hips brushed with nearly every step. So focused was the Doctor on ensuring Rose did not fall, that he occasionally forgot to watch his own step and stumbled. Whenever this happened, Rose would catch and stable him. The third time this happened she giggled and chided him.

"People'd think I'm the one with superior eyesight, Doctor," she teased. "If you don't take care, well be stuck here, 'cause you'll break your leg, and I can't see to go anywhere until morning." Rose couldn't see the properly chastised look on his face, nor could she tell that he seemed to soften at her concern, a surprised tenderness flashing through his eyes.

"As you wish" were his only words. Rose's eyes sprang to where she estimated his were and cursed the darkness, desperate to know what meaning his words might have. Their journey continued through the inky forest and, after several minutes of uncomfortable musings on her part, Rose asked him a question.

"Doctor, do you ever watch movies?"

"Sure! I used to go to the Prezurian Film Festival once a decade or so," he enthused. Rose almost let it drop at that, except that, moments later, the Doctor pulled her to a halt. "Wait here," he murmured in her ear before letting her go. The chill air of the night rushed in to take his place at her side.

Without the aid of sight, Rose found herself depending more on sound for information and, in return, paying it more attention than was usual. There was the soft rustle of the Doctor's suit as he moved, a scrape and scuffle. Then, the Doctor's hands reappeared against her. One on either side, beneath her arms. Rose's breath caught at the unexpected contact. The Doctor lifted her maybe an inch and drew her close. The fact that he must be about two feet beneath her flitted across her thoughts, but was succeeded by such monumental observations like the way his breath puffed against her stomach and how her hips were pressed against his chest. He lowered her with a delicious slowness that set every nerve on fire where he brushed her skin. She heard his breath hitch; she felt his pulses race against her hands; she smelled his musk; she tasted the tang of his arousal when she breathed in. She was empowered by his reaction.

"What did they show at the Prezurian Film Festival?" Rose's voice was pitched low, husky.

"Oh, the classics. Well, they called them classics," the Doctor babbled in an effort not to seem affected. "They were Earth movies from the late twentieth century."

"They ever show anything American?" Rose continued to speak in seductive tones quite confident that his voice wasn't usually quite that high.

"A few." The Doctor was nearly squeaking, now.

"When I was a kid, I hated being named after a flower. But then I saw this one film, and I was just glad mum had had the sense to not name me Buttercup," she declared. When the Doctor's hearts skipped a beat, Rose knew she'd been right on the money. The Doctor stilled and regarded her, as she smirked in the starlight. He seriously considered swooping down and stealing that smirk, but he noticed a shiver run down Rose's spine as the wind picked up.

He resumed his place at her side and their trek began once more.

* * *

As they neared the cabin, Rose's mind retuned to Tankus' experiments. A 'shag or die' scenario seemed a bit extreme, but for some people, she supposed, it might be the only way to make them give into feelings rather than reason. The Doctor, for instance, might never choose to act on the attraction between them. She became more sure everyday of its mutuality. Once again, the Doctor fiddled with the environmental controls. Although she hadn't paid much attention the first time, Rose was fairly certain that he had raised the level of something. With any luck, it would break her out of this haze that smothered her inside the cabin. Tankus may not have had access to human physiology, but there was no telling how similar human and Komenian biochemistry was.

Almost as if it were grateful to be out of the dormancy it had been held in throughout the day, the lust Rose had been keeping in check leapt back into the mix with a vengeance the moment the front door closed behind her. Rose almost moaned as her knees grew unsteady and heat pooled between her thighs. _It should be impossible to get this worked up with no stimuli, _Rose mentally complained.

His hand wrapped around hers, the Doctor led Rose into the kitchen where she gratefully sank into a chair at the table, relieved at no longer having to focus on staying upright. She became aware of the Doctor chattering away, as it appeared he had been doing for some time.

"The most interesting aspect of his compound is that it somehow focused the biological drive of sex with emotional attachment. As most sentient life forms do, his compound was able to concentrate on one individual as the most desirable, though it's not necessarily the strongest or healthiest." By this point, Rose had been able to realize that the Doctor was marveling over Tankus' work. "Emotional compatibility has little to do with biology. Somehow his chemical increases the biological urge, but only as it relates to a specific subject, each different depending on who has been given the compound. For instance, if you had somehow come in contact with a version that is compatible with your physiology," Rose almost rolled her eyes at the irony inherent in that statement. "and weren't here with me, but rather with Mr. Mickey-"

"I'd be completely unaffected, yeah?" Rose tried to hurry the conversation along. It was only after the Doctor stared at her for several moments that Rose realized the ramifications of what she'd said.

"Are-" the Doctor licked his lips. "Are you affected now?" His voice was hesitant, but pleading. Rose realized that the ball was well and truly in her court. She could deny what her body was doing to her, and things would go on as they always had, or she could own up to the images that were, even now, tumbling through her brain.

As a response, Rose stood and walked around the table to him. Something like hope began to gleam in his eyes. She leaned down so that her face was level with his and rested a hand the counter just behind him, so that one arm was on either side of him, hemming him in, filling his nostrils with her scent, and sending his skin tingling with her presence. Leaning down so that their faces were on the same level, Rose knew that if he were to look straight ahead, he would be able to see down her shirt. He swallowed reflexively, and Rose was distracted by the movement of his Adam's apple…or whatever the Gallifreyan equivalent was. She dipped her face lower and quickly snagged a taste of his skin there. Her eyes snapped back up to his and she pressed her lips to his. The haze released its hold on her then, and she was glad to be able to fully experience the way his lips curled against hers just before he returned the kiss, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her down into his lap.

"I've wanted to do that since we came to this place," Rose told him when they broke apart.

"Only since then?" the Doctor prompted with a knowing smile.

"Well, I've _wanted_ to practically since I met you, but it's been…I dunno, almost uncontrollable since we got here." Rose wasn't entirely aware of what she was saying since the Doctor was nuzzling the shell of her ear, but she was fairly certain that she had at least stayed on subject.

"I suppose I can turn it off then," the Doctor said, running his fingers along her spine.

"Turn what off?"

"The compound. I've been having the atmospheric controls pumping it in."

"Doctor, it doesn't work on humans."

"I may have visited him twenty years from now and given him the knowledge he needed of humans."

"Why?" The Doctor realized that not only had Rose stilled in his arms, but stiffened. His next sentence could, she seemed to be saying, go very badly for him, or very, very well.

"I needed to know how you felt," he explained in a rush. "I told you. It only works on someone you…care about." He tenderly brushed a strand of hair back from her face. "I can't do this if it doesn't mean anything. I don't think I'd survive it when you left if I'd let this happen." A smile had grown on Rose's face as he spoke.

"Ever heard of asking?" she teased

"Because that wouldn't be awkward at all," he groused. Rose drew a hand down along his collarbone, over his chest, grazing a nipple in the process, past his stomach and let her fingers barely touch the fabric of his pants where a tent had been pitched.

"I could decide to be angry," she told him severely. "I could walk out of here and then who'd be in an _awkward_ position?" On the word 'awkward' Rose applied pressure with her wayward hand and rubbed along his erection.

"You win!" he gasped. "I'm a terrible person and deserve the harshest punishment for my crimes!"

"I may be able to oblige," Rose purred. She recaptured his lips and raised her hands so that one could lace through his hair while the other gripped the knot of his tie. It was gratifying that when she began to stand, he followed, keeping their contact intact. His tongue invaded her mouth with the confidence of a warlord surveying his spoils after a period of besiegement that has made him familiar with what is now finally his. He didn't need to coax Rose into returning the favor, because the moment his lips parted, she took the opportunity to explore.

Using his tie as a leash, she pulled him down the hall towards the bedroom. Rose stopped the Doctor with gentle pressure to his chest at the door to the bedroom.

"So…let me get this straight: if I don't shag you now, this chemical will not only eventually kill me, but apparently drive me mad in the meantime?" she asked, pointedly ignoring his smug grin. The Doctor shrugged, still smirking.

"No telling. Seeing as how Tankus knew my purposes, he might not have made it lethal. But since this is the first time it's been tested, who knows?" Rose would later swear that at this point, the Doctor actually leered. She would have smacked him for his cheek if it hadn't been so damn sexy. "Do you really want to risk it?" he continued. Breathless, Rose shook her head, and the Doctor triumphantly lowered his lips to hers.

Rose found herself pressed up against the door. She felt surrounded by the Doctor, a fact that was reassuring, comfortable, as close to relaxing as it could be while, at the same time, being entirely arousing. Her hands found their way beneath his jacket to dance over his shoulders and back, while one of his stroked the side of her neck and his other fumbled at the panel, seeking access. The door sprung open without warning and Rose nearly fell backwards, only saved by the Doctor's sudden grip wrapping around her and pulling her close, scarcely allowing room for breath. He walked her backwards, tentatively, until the backs of her knees hit the bed, his mouth never ceasing exploration. On this slow journey, Rose managed to divest him of his jacket and vest. The need that now coursed through her veins was entirely her own, sharpening each moment, far from the drug-induced haze that had clouded her body and thoughts for the past…was it only two days?

Rose knew that the Doctor had been far too busy to order the building to stop dosing her, but the chemical seemed to have released its hold when it determined that its goal was being realized. Or maybe it was just wearing off. Or maybe it was losing its potency. Or maybe it was just flawed. Rose had too many sensations and images bombarding her mind to pursue any of these lines of thought.

The Doctor's hands had trailed down to her hips and his thumbs were toying with the skin above her waistband, pushing her shirt up just a few inches. He drew his hands up from where they were resting, pushing the shirt as they rose ever higher. His fingers skittered along her ribs and made Rose squirm. The Doctor grasped the hem of her shirt and pulled it off. Rose sought the buttons of his shirt to even the playing field, but he seized her wrists and held her still, his eyes raking over her. With trembling fingers he unclipped the front-fastening, plain beige bra. The cups fell apart, and the Doctor pushed the straps down her arms until the garment fell to the ground behind her. He brought his lips to brush against the shell of her ear as he whispered.

"You embody perfection."

He watched appreciatively as a charming flush suffused Rose's face, neck and chest.

But the Doctor couldn't maintain this period of stillness for long. Gently, he pushed her down onto the bed and was pulled down with her by his tie. While he braced his weight on his hands in order to not crush her. Rose took advantage of the way he was holding himself almost immobile above her and finally rid his upper body of clothes. After a brief perusal of the newly revealed skin by her fingers, Rose raised herself on one elbow and took his nipple in her mouth. She grinned at the way he gasped as his arms buckled. With eyes as curious and abnormally large as a newly hatched owl, the Doctor blinked down at her.

"Minx," he growled before dipping his head and returning the favor she had bestowed on him. Rose's fingers clenched his shoulders as his tongue swirled around the dusky tip before expertly applying suction. Rose groaned as she rolled her hips up into his. The short pants the Doctor was reduced to were almost as satisfying as the speed with which he completed the task of undressing them both.

Rose had had enough of the slow. The last two years had been slow. The last two days had been slower still. So many times, she and the Doctor had come close to crossing that boundary, but one of them would always jump back from the "High Voltage" sign, afraid of a few sparks. She was fairly certain that they had now crossed the point of no return, but refused to risk it. She rolled the Doctor onto his back and straddled his hips sparing only the briefest second to both gauge his reaction-very pleasant surprise- and to memorize the sight of him panting below her, before lowering herself onto him. She breathed out as their hips met, a sigh that encompassed almost every emotion it is possible to have: contentment, love, relief, longing for this to never end, regret that it had taken so long, and fear that it might not last. From the look on his face, though, Rose knew she had achieved her end, though: there was no going back. The bridge had been burned, its ashes scattered by the wind.

It had been entirely too long for both of them. Rose felt as though every nerve had come alive. Pleasure dominated over the pain of being opened fully after being neglected for too long by any thing other than fingers and cold devices. She held herself still as her muscles spasmed before adjusting to this long forgotten sensation. The Doctor was very grateful for the moment to collect himself. Each twitch of her muscles caused his control to disappear. She was so much warmer that he'd expected, and the sight of her straddling him was one he hoped to see frequently. He hadn't thought he'd be able to be so passive so soon after the War. The few times his previous incarnation had taken empty solace in the bodies of others, he had always needed to be in control. The Doctor now knew how much Rose had succeeding in healing him until this moment when she was confidently asserting her power over him. This feeling of complete abandon let him experience what it was to be freed to sensation rather than trapped by his past.

Rose rocked her hips, causing the Doctor to buck up into her yielding warmth which was wetter than he'd believed it would be. She lifted herself off of him until his head was barely nestled in her opening and plunged back onto him.

_Superior physiology be damned, _the Doctor thought, _this girl will be the death of me. _He was straining for release, fighting through to euphoria, but fighting to hold it back. Rose's rhythm above him was growing more erratic, and he knew that she was close. He reached one hand up to her breast and pinched her nipple, rolling it between his fingers. She shuddered and faltered before regaining her pattern. His second hand snaked between their forms, and he pinched her clitoris without any preamble or pretense of gentleness. Rose screamed and came around him, the Doctor following seconds later. When she collapsed onto his chest he cradled her tenderly. Laying kisses to her brow, eyelids and cheeks, he brought her back to reality. A place that had never before seemed as glorious as it did in that moment.

"Just in case I wasn't clear, I love you." Rose murmured, rolling off of him so that they could curl around each other.

"Rose Tyler. You are more precious to me than anything in the universe, and I do love you. Never forget that." His eyes bored into hers, as though drilling the memory into her mind. Rose smiled and kissed him.

"I don't intend to." She was silent for a moment, but a thought soon occurred to her that needed to be voiced. "Can we send Tankus a gift basket or something? Or will they confiscate that at this prison?"

"All he would want is to know that we're happy." The Doctor informed her fondly, before his grin became lascivious. "Maybe we can send him a video."


End file.
